


Splitting the Bill

by Silential



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bathing, M/M, Sub!Hux, handjobs, sex slave Hux, slight humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7004257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silential/pseuds/Silential
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time in almost a year, Mitaka had shore leave. He hadn't expected to find himself with Petty Officer Unamo on Chalcedon, wandering the slave markets, nor to see the former General Hux on an auction block as a pleasure slave. </p><p>And Mitaka certainly hadn't expected to be the one to buy him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splitting the Bill

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me at somethingstately on Tumblr!

For the first time in almost a year, Lt. Mitaka had shore leave. He’d pulled overtime, hoarding his promised private hours carefully, wringing every last spare moment he could just to stretch his vacation a little longer.

Someplace tropical, he’d thought. Warm. Lovely.

Far from Lord Ren. 

Which was why it was still escaping his mind how he’d somehow wound up with Unamo on Chalcedon, strolling through the slave market as if the proffered wares were exotic fruit instead of sentient beings. Naturally, she insisted on stopping by every podium that caught her eye, as if either of them made enough to afford the exorbitant prices demanded. Maybe pooled together they did, he figured, but there were splurges and then there was going half in on a sex slave he didn’t think he’d ever work up the confidence to use.

The hot wind ruffled his hair, leaving dust to coat what wasn’t covered by his hat.

Mitaka almost missed seeing him.

He had been glancing around rather aimlessly, so much color and movement in the drab landscape. But if there was one color he would never in his life forget it was that one – slicked back copper, strident and lurid against the pale cream softness of the General’s face. He’d thought about it often, alone at night in a too quiet room, wondering what the gelled strands would feel like between his fingers. What the full curve of those lips would feel like around his cock. Mitaka chided himself, gaze zeroing in on the flash that had caught his eye, between two Twi’leks arguing over some price or another. Those kinds of thoughts wouldn’t do.

The General had been demoted some time ago. Demoted and deposed, swept aside in the mad rush for progress.

And even before he had, he hadn’t spared a glance in Mitaka’s direction, much less thought of him so warmly.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was that color, and with barely a word of explanation, left Unamo where she stood. Mitaka hesitantly stepped between the two Twi’leks, drawing closer to the slightly raised podium and the man on his knees upon it.

There was no mistaking him. Not this close up.

His hair was longer, lightly brushing his shoulders, still as red and vibrant as Mitaka remembered. It looked stringy, dirty, as if they’d hastily cleaned him up before parading him before the small crowd gathered for the auction. Shirtless and with a small scrap of cloth covering his hips, Hux’s skin glistened faintly, no doubt covered in the cheap oil they slathered on to try to call attention to what were, admittedly, non-existent muscles. He was too slender for that, yet soft in the most unexpected of places – places that made Mitaka’s mouth part in a silent gasp, fingers itching to caress gently, to squeeze. Hux’s head was bent, gaze downcast.

He looked broken. A marionette with the strings cut.

Mitaka hadn’t even realized he was hard until the auctioneer, a heavy-set being of a race he couldn’t identify, began to speak. It wasn’t a language he was too familiar with, but phrases trickled into his consciousness, sweet as honey. The way the slaver tangled his large fist in Hux’s hair and forced his head up, exposing the faint tracks of tears striping his cheeks, didn’t hurt either.

 _Pleasure slave. Fully trained. Fully stretched._

The rise of the slaver’s fist had Hux standing, shivering and standing as tall as he could as another hand tugged down the scrap of cloth at his waist. It was the half-hard cock, smaller than he’d expected and crowned by a thatch of hair as red as that wrapped around the other being’s fist, that did Mitaka in.

Not five minutes later he found himself bidding, half of him wondering where he was going to get the money but the other half barreling on anyway.

When Mitaka cinched the bid and watched, an excitement almost euphoric bubbling up inside, as a steel collar was snapped onto the throat he’d thought so long about, he could barely stand still. The chainlink leash was pressed into his hands.

The shocked gaze, set above slightly parted lips, only fanned the flames.

Hopefully Unamo would agree to this little investment.

\---

Thankfully for his knees and overall well-being, Unamo ponied up the other half of the credits required. 

Signing with his fingerprint on the slaver’s datapad, Mitaka tried not to dwell on how much they’d just set themselves back, and instead struggled to settle the rapid staccato of his heart. Unamo, for having been informed only two minutes before of her new property, was taking it remarkably well. Her face oscillated between genuine shock that Mitaka, quiet and cautious, even had it in him to make such a rash decision and amusement over his choice of slaves. 

And of course, all of that was laced with an undercurrent of raw hunger. Her gaze, cutting as an acetylene torch, raked over their new property, and Mitaka observed as Hux only wilted further with the scrutiny. Unamo was quietly known for her… _predilections_ and Mitaka had no doubt he’d be dealing with healing welts on Hux’s thighs and ass on more than a few occasions. If there was a positive to the dichotomy in their respective styles, it was that with her to remind him, Hux would never slack in his training. 

_Stars above._ Finally coming down from his high, Mitaka could only blink owlishly at the metal links still clutched in one hand. What in the name of the Maker had he done? 

Never go half in on a sex slave with a sadist, for one. 

Was that a proverb? Mitaka felt it should be. 

Too late now, he supposed; he had promised her every other day and he was the sort of man who kept his promises. Hopefully High Command wouldn’t take issue with the difference in their ranks, given that he was a Lieutenant and she was a Petty Oficer, but since he wasn’t actually sleeping with _her_ , Mitaka figured they would excuse the whole deal as a business arrangement. If there was precedent for this situation in the Order, no one ever talked about it. 

And, Maker damn him, what was the protocol for bringing a disgraced former General back on board his former ship, and as a pleasure slave no less? 

Glancing to Hux, Mitaka had to tamp down the urge to stroke one soft cheek and offer mindless words of comfort. Hux hadn’t looked up the entire time, lashes gently dusting his cheeks as his throat bobbed heavily every so often. Up close, the oil was even more tawdry – that would have to come off immediately, Mitaka thought. He wanted to swipe away the drying tears with his thumbs, as much to feel them against his fingertips and prove they were real, _the General was human_ , as reassure and soothe. 

But he didn’t, merely glued one hand to his side and the other to its position in front of his stomach, clinging for dear life to the leash. Struggling to wring the quaver from his voice, he summoned every ounce of his rank. “I’m taking him tonight.” 

Unamo frowned, a distinct pout on her sharp features. “I wanted him first.” 

“I don’t want to deal with your,” he glanced sideways at her, “ _marks_. You’ll get your turn. Besides, I saw him first.” 

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and shifting to one foot. “Fine.” 

Not having expected it to be quite so easy, Mitaka was left almost gaping. “Well alright then.” 

\-----

For a man who carefully thought and re-thought every decision for fear of making the wrong choice, he’d had absolutely no plan, not even a shred of one. 

And it was definitely showing. 

The water – real running water, not a sonic shower for once – splashed noisily from the faucet into the tub, the torrent glistening in its fall to crash upon the metal below. Mitaka normally didn’t analyze the flow pattern of his bath water quite so intently, but it certainly beat staring in awkward silence at the slightly hunched man by the ‘fresher door. He had responded monosyllabically to any and all queries put to him since they’d left the slavers market, shuffling a pace behind Mitaka in an attempt to avoid strangulation by the short leash. 

The collar still circled his throat, and Mitaka warred with himself about whether to take it off. Fully removing the disgusting oil required access to Hux’s neck, but it almost took Mitaka’s breath away to see the mark of his ownership so plain, so irrefutable as the cast of metal. 

Maybe, Mitaka reasoned, he could pick up another one – leather, something slim and delicate and lovely, before they left?

The idea nearly had a smile springing to his face, and he pushed away from where he knelt beside the tub. Drawing closer to Hux, who didn’t react to his proximity besides the quick flick of his eyes, Mitaka brought his almost shaking hands to the metal at Hux’s throat. He caressed across the line of skin just above it with his thumb, feeling the hitch of Hux’s Adam’s apple under his fingertip. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know,” Mitaka breathed, the words sighing from a part of his mind he hadn’t ever thought he’d bare to anyone, much less the man of his frequent fantasies. Legally bound to him, owned by him. His to care for, and touch, and _use_ however he wanted.

Hux only swallowed, lashes fluttering and jaw tightening. 

Unsure what exactly _fully trained_ meant on Chalcedon, and figuring it was never too early to establish some perimeters, Mitaka added, “If I address you, you may speak.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Hux replied quietly, the addition of _sir_ sparking a shiver to run up Mitaka’s spine. Hearing this voice was like looking in a funhouse mirror of his memories; same overall pitch, but the tone, so rusted and meek and worlds away from the imperiousness of the General, had Mitaka’s mind almost stumbling. Mitaka told himself he didn't particularly care to know what they'd done to break the General, but he knew he was only lying to himself.

Finally recalling what he’d came to do, he unclasped the collar, setting it daintily on the sink. 

Withdrawing to the side of the tub once more, he judged the waterline to be about adequate for their purposes. He turned the knob and stemmed the flow of water, eyes catching on the last few drops as they disturbed the surface. 

“Strip, and then,” he jerked his head towards the water, feeling a little unsure himself, “in you go.” 

Hux complied immediately, mechanically pushing the scrap of whatever the slavers had given him to the floor and stepping out of it quickly. Mitaka couldn’t keep his eyes from Hux’s cock, soft now and so small, and he almost laughed at the memory of Thannison’s fervent claims that _the General had to be compensating for something_. Hux, oblivious to his thoughts, lifted one leg into the tub and then the other, settling into the water until it brushed at his hips. 

Having not been addressed, Hux remained silent, slowly stretching out his long legs as far as the length of the tub would allow. The water was pleasantly hot, Mitaka had made sure. It left the lip of the bathing glass to stream over Hux’s chest and back, held aloft in one of Mitaka’s hands as the other tightly gripped the rim of the tub. None of the oil was removed, of course, but it prepped for the rest. And to be honest, he enjoyed watching it stream down the alabaster flesh that was now _his_ , soaking the firebrand of his slave's hair after Mitaka tipped his chin upwards.

Hux followed the motion easily, offering no resistance and letting himself be moved however Mitaka liked. It was better than he ever could have dreamed.

Reaching for the provided container of liquid surfactant, Mitaka squirted a portion into his hands and lathered between them. He’d dreamed of doing this for ages, maybe after they’d spent the night moaning and fucking, squeezing in a quick shower before the start of Alpha shift. The cognitive dissonance between those fantasies and reality brushed against the edges of his mind, but he shoved it away. Mitaka was determined to enjoy this. 

Maybe Hux would too. 

Gently encircling Hux’s neck, he started there, his hands sliding against the wet skin. Mitaka worked downwards, over Hux’s shoulders, the tips of his hair brushing lightly against his soapy knuckles. His slave’s eyes had fallen shut, face largely passive with the rhythmic, wandering sweeps across his skin. 

Until Mitaka reached his chest, fingertips swirling around each nipple. Each brush over the bud itself, careful and methodic, brought a slightly hitch to Hux’s throat. 

A glance downward revealed that Hux was no longer soft, cock swelling slightly where it lay against his thigh. Mitaka fought a grin endeavoring to claim his mouth, instead focusing on the slow and steady motion of his touch. Hux swallowed, brow furrowed and mouth pressed tightly together, and the quickening rise and fall of the chest beneath his hands spoke words he wasn’t allowed to. 

Mitaka could feel his own cock, hard where it pressed against the front of his slacks, and bit back his own sigh at the sight. 

Excitement guided his hands in their quest further downward, lather bubbling white across the expanse of pale skin. Whatever Hux had endured, they clearly hadn’t starved him, as the slight belly rounding into his hands could attest. The General had always been so severe, so self-denying, it was a pleasant shock to smooth across the yielding flesh before finally, finally sinking beneath the surface to where Mitaka had ached to be for years. 

A hair’s breadth away, the pads of his fingertips brushing along Hux’s solid length, Mitaka felt his hands stutter to a halt. 

He felt like he should be asking. Did one ask? _No, of course not, you idiot_ , he reprimanded himself, _he’s a pleasure slave. Your pleasure slave. You think Unamo would be asking?_

Still, this wasn’t something he’d ever prepared for, and etiquette for this situation was hardly addressed in the Academy. Dithering as usual, Mitaka only held his breath, gaze flicking to Hux’s face as if to glean an ounce of support to continue. 

Mitaka hadn’t expected to see light blue eyes fixed upon his own, lips fluttering with unspoken words. 

Nor the hand that covered his own, curling his fingers the rest of the way around Hux’s cock. Squeezing tightly, Mitaka didn’t move at first, couldn’t move, his eyes glued to the bright gaze holding his. Even fully hard, Mitaka’s hand spanned the length of him and then some, but the size was comfortable, better than if he'd had to strain his hand. Honestly he preferred it this way - it wasn't like Hux was going to be fucking _him_. 

And Mitaka would be lying if he didn't admit it felt rather good to know he was longer than Hux, thicker than Hux. The crew was going to lose it when he told them.

Tugging gently upwards pulled Hux’s eyes closed with it, and as he repeated the motion, Mitaka swore he heard a choked groan. Who knew how long it had been since Hux had been allowed to come, he thought, enraptured by the vision of the swollen cock in his fist, inflamed head just cresting the surface of the water. Mitaka ached to know if precome was dripping from the slit, and promised himself he would find out the next time. 

_Next time._ There would be a next time. There would be as many times as he wanted.

The thought had his own breath quickening, speeding the pull of his hand, fist tightening. He was speaking before he realized, almost half into the tub himself as he fought to draw closer, “I’m going to make you come in every way I can think of. I’m going to fuck you, and touch you, whenever I want, and when you’re not with me, I’ll know you’re Unamo’s little whore, little _slut_ –“

Holy Force, he’d never known himself to be one to talk filthy, but the words tumbled out. Hux was panting, eyes screwed shut. 

“ – and want to know the best part? You’ll be back with us, finally back on the Finalizer. But you won't be strutting around and ordering, oh no. You'll be sucking and taking my cock, _General_ –“

At the mention of his former title, Hux came with a moan, come spurting over Mitaka’s knuckles and into the water. Milky and thick, he watched it dribble from the spent head. Eyes flicking to his slave's face, Hux’s chest and neck were flushed a deep red, and Mitaka imagined he could almost hear the heavy pound of Hux’s heart over the rush of blood in his ears. 

His own cock throbbed in his trousers, begging to be touched. 

Releasing Hux’s softening cock, splashing in the water and wiping the mess on Hux’s submerged thigh, Mitaka could only shake his head and grin.


End file.
